Papa Ichi
by Glowing Blue
Summary: Because it's inevitable that Ichigo will one day become as much of a doting father as his own. Two-Shot.
1. Ichigo

**A/N: **This was just a short fic I wrote on tumblr for the lovely **kenpachiis, **because she gave me a truckload of feels just by making this simple comment: "_*pictures__ Ichigo snuggling his and Rukia's kid*...*dies*_" And that's all it took for me to write a whole fic.

I didn't plan on putting this up on FFN, simply because I don't tend to post my tumblr fics on this site (because 1) they're _usually_ pretty short, and 2) it would be redundant for the people who follow me on both sites). But _then, _the incredibly sweet **llama-in-socks **asked me to and it left me in a puddle of happy goo :3 So here it is!

**Warning: **BEWARE_ THE FLUFF._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

When the baby's wails drifted into their room for the first time that night, Ichigo was out of their bed in a flash, his heels thumping down the hall before Rukia had even cracked open an eye.

She contemplated getting out of the warm blankets herself, but decided against it, sure that Ichigo would come to her himself if this was a matter of breast-feeding. Eventually the wails died down, fading into the quiet shushing noises she could hear from her husband. It was something he did often, gently patting little Ichi's back while soothingly whispering into his ear: _sh, sh, sh, sh, sh._

The soft sounds even lulled Rukia to sleep, and she barely felt the mattress dip when Ichigo returned to her, only aware of his arrival when he threw an arm over her waist.

It was only an hour later when the baby woke them again. Rukia was quicker to return to conciousness this time, but it seemed Ichigo had an internal sensor of some sort that just _knew_ when little Ichi was awake. He was out the door before she could even offer to be the one to go this time, and was back even quicker than before.

"His blanket fell off," was his brief, sleep-muddled explanation before he tucked her into his chest and fell asleep once again.

By the third interruption, Rukia was starting to feel guilty. It was always Ichigo who was up faster, at their baby's beck and call before she could even react to his wails. The lack of sleep couldn't have been good for him, yet he never thought to rouse her and ask her to go in his stead.

"You're making me feel bad," she mumbled when he returned, frowning as he got under the blankets. "Let me do some of the work, too."

"You do plenty," he grunted, shutting his eyes and already slipping back into sleep. "Hell, you gave birth to him, so what more could I ask you to do? I can't do anything when it's feeding time, so at least let me do what I can."

She shook her head, unable to stop the smile twitching on her lips. He might possibly have been the only father who was actually _eager_ for their baby to cry in the middle of the night, just so he could rush to his aid – _anything_ to spend more time with their son.

He could grumble all he wanted about his own father's over-abundance of love, but Ichigo had turned out to be just as much of a doting father as Isshin.

.

.

.

Rukia returned from a fukutaichou meeting one afternoon to find Ichigo in the kitchen with little Ichi, in the middle of a feeding session gone wrong. Their son was securely locked away in his high chair, and Ichigo had turned around a chair and straddled it. In his hands he held a bottle of baby food and a tiny, plastic spoon.

Both boys were a complete mess. Little Ichi's lips were smeared with the pasty goo, and it seemed it had gotten everywhere but _inside_ his mouth. Ichigo's hair was dishevelled and his eyes haggard, obviously not having much luck with this particular task.

"Come on," he urged their son. "You need to eat. It's not that bad! See? Look!" He proceeded to place an entire spoonful of the mush into his mouth, then promptly spit it out and started gagging horrendously on his own tongue. _"Ew! Blugh."_

Little Ichi started to cry at the spectacle, while Rukia almost bust a gut trying not to laugh. Noticing her presence at the kitchen entrance, Ichigo glared at her.

"What the _hell_ are we feeding our kid?" he demanded, turning the bottle over in his hand and redirecting his glare onto the label.

"You're just not experienced enough," she declared smugly, picking up a stray toy from the counter and snatching the bottle from his grasp. "Watch and learn."

She wiggled the colorful train in front of their son and made whistling noises that immedaitely drew little Ichi's notice. He watched the toy with rapt attention, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging, before clapping his hands and laughing gleefully at the show.

"Now," Rukia hissed when he opened his mouth, and Ichigo fed him a spoonful of baby food without delay. Their son was too distracted by the display to notice and instinctively swallowed without giving it much thought.

"It worked," Ichigo said in awe, then immedaitely motioned for the train. "Let me try."

Lunch passed fairly quickly after that, as Ichigo used the trick he had learned to sneak the entirety of the food to the distracted toddler, looking mighty proud of himself. Rukia ruffled both their hair as she passed, leaving them to their bonding to change out of her uniform.

Even long after feeding time had ended, Ichigo still sat in the kitchen with little Ichi and entertained him with his toy train for hours, content with just making their son laugh.

.

.

.

Peaceful moments like these were really nice, Rukia mused as she smiled at the sight before her. She hadn't been prepared for her heart to melt when she passed through the living room with a basket of laundry in hand, but it would have been impossible for it not to.

The two must have fallen asleep while watching TV, for a sports game was blaring from the screen behind her. Ichigo was stretched out on the couch on his back, his head resting on a cushion and the lines of his face smoothed out into complete serenity. One arm rested against his side while the other dangled over the edge of the couch.

What drew her attention was little Ichi, who had dozed off on his stomach, laid out on his father's chest. Mouth slightly parted, his little body moved with each breath he took, his breathing almost completely in sync with his father's. He had tightly clutched Ichigo's shirt with his tiny fists.

He was so _tiny_, especially in comparison to his father's gigantic frame, and she took the time to notice the difference when it was laid bare before her. Little Ichi's head was on his father's chest, and from where Ichigo's shirt had slightly ridden up to his waist, she could see his tiny toes lightly grazing his father's belly button. He wasn't even as big as Ichigo's torso yet, and Rukia's heart melted all over again.

She promptly put down the laundry, pulled out her phone, snapped a picture of the heartwarming scene before her, sent it to both Isshin and Yuzu, and then went about her business once again, leaving her two boys to doze together on this quiet afternoon.

.

.

.

Ichigo returned from grocery shopping one afternoon with a strange limp, both his hands laden with giant bags and with little Ichi nowhere to be found.

"What happened?" Rukia demanded in worry. "Where's our son?"

Ichigo just gestured down to his feet, and with a frown, she rounded the dining table to look. There was their son, his arms and his legs all jumbled together and tightly wrapped around his father's leg as he curled up into a ball like some baby monkey. He blinked up at his mother without a word as she gaped.

"Did you come home all the way like this?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"He wouldn't let go," was Ichigo's explanation, which he passed off with a shrug as if to say, _what are you gonna do?_

She grinned at the thought of what people must have made of the unique pair, because it was sure to have looked funny to see Ichigo widely limping down the street with a toddler attached to his leg as if he were some jungle gym.

Hands on her hips, she looked down at their son and said playfully, "You were supposed to _help_ your father, not use him as transportation."

Little Ichi just mumbled some intangible words in his garbled baby talk before burying his face into Ichigo's pants, and the couple exchanged amused grins. To his credit, Ichigo didn't even pry him off when faced with the task of putting the groceries away, too soft to deny his son the use of his leg, and Rukia spent a memorable day watching him limp all through their home as little Ichi's baby transportation.

.

.

.

Sometimes, they didn't even need toys to play.

Ichigo was content with bopping his nose or burying his face in their son's neck for a series of rapid kisses that always had little Ichi squealing and giggling and generally making a gleeful fuss. Perhaps Rukia's favorite pastime was watching Ichigo get on all fours, their son secured on his back, and crawl through the entirety of the house.

It seemed Ichigo had favorite moments, too.

"I like watching you take his hand whenever we go out," he murmured into her ear one night, his arms wrapped around her hips and his chest pressed to her back. "Reminds me of me and _my_ mother."

Rukia's answer was accompanied with a sad smile. "It's too bad she never got to meet him. I'm sure she would have loved him more than anyone."

"Yeah…" he answered softly, going quiet for a moment.

Her smile suddenly turned wider, no longer so sad, and she craned her neck back so he could see it. "But it's all right, because you give him enough love for _ten_people. Even if she can't be here physically, he's got you here to receive her share of love, too."

That got a chuckle out of him, and he swooped down to peck her lips. "Yeah."

This time, it didn't sound so melancholic.

.

.

.

Little Ichi had been blessed with his father's hair color, a fact which had most of the female officers in Soul Society squealing. Rukia had walked in on her fair share of dress-up sessions to find cameras flashing and her son dressed in a costume similar to Ichigo's bankai release, a plastic toy sword strapped securely to his back. That was the _last_ time she asked Matsumoto to babysit.

Ichigo's family, for the most part, was ecstatic about his hair, and even Ichigo couldn't help the glint of pride in his eyes whenever someone marveled how much his son had grown to resemble him.

But there were insecurities there, too.

"You don't think the kids will pick on him, do you?" he asked with worry as they cleaned up the table after dinner one night, little Ichi securely tucked in a play area in the living room.

She knew he was thinking of his own experiences, when kids had refused to play with him at a young age and when he'd been branded a delinquent and roped into dozens of fights through high school. Rukia took a moment to softly cup his cheek.

"We won't let them," she swore. "We'll never let our son go through anything horrible, even if our lives depend on it. You're with me, right?"

"Of course," he sighed, putting a hand over hers, "but there will always be people out there who don't listen to reason. Maybe…" He bit his lip unsurely, then plowed on, "Maybe if he dyed it…"

_"Absolutely not,"_ Rukia hissed, but she knew it was the spur of the moment talking. Ichigo had never been the type to care what others said, and he most_definitely_ never wanted his son to grow up believing he needed to change to fit someone else's criteria of "normal."

"Our son's hair has always been that color, and it always _will_ be that color," she carried on, vehemently. "There's no reason for him to change it, because it's _his_. That alone is reason enough for me to know it's the most gorgeous hair color anyone could ever have."

Ichigo's lips twitched into a playful smile. "I have gorgeous hair?" he mumbled, holding her hand tighter. He'd gotten over the serious conversation mighty fast.

Rukia rolled her eyes and snatched her hand back, but the effect was lost at the first sight of her loving smile. "Just go tuck your son into bed, would you?" she huffed, stalking into the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

He laughed even as he dutifully left to go find his son.

.

.

.

She found them in her and Ichigo's room much later, a picture book tossed open on the bed and a single lamp lighting up the room. The two were tucked under the blankets, their heads bent together as little Ichi used his father's arm as a pillow.

Ichigo stirred at the sound of her footsteps, lifting his head and peering at her through half-lidded eyes. A small smile broke out across his lips, and he silently offered her his free hand, beckoning her to join them in slumber.

Sliding off her slippers, she accepted his hand wordlessly and shifted under the covers herself, getting as close as she could to them without waking little Ichi and curling into their warmth.

They drifted off with interlocked fingers, and as Ichigo fell back asleep with his wife and son in his arms, his last thought was that this was bliss.

* * *

**A/N: **Just a fic about Ichigo being a cute father, because he totally would be :) Possible Rukia version on the way - I'm definitely thinking about it.

And I didn't even name their baby. He was just 'little Ichi,' haha.


	2. Rukia

**A/N: **Finally finished the Rukia version! It took a little longer than I had planned for it to, but that's only because life got in the way (and because this turned out twice the size of the Ichigo version -.-). I actually finished this last night, but I was so exhausted and had to get up for an early class, so I went to bed and waited until now to post this on here.

Spot the obligatory Kuchiki family scene – these recent manga chapters have been giving me the most intense Kuchiki feels, y'all.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

Bath time was special to Rukia. She'd always loved a good bath, and especially the feeling of cleanliness that came with it, but it had become something even more sacred ever since she had started sharing it with her son.

"Now hold still, baby," she crooned, dunking the sponge in her hand under the water so that it foamed. The second she started scrubbing at little Ichi's shoulders, he started squealing and splashing the water with his tiny fists, and Rukia recoiled before she was splashed.

"I know it tickles!" she laughed, waiting until he'd calmed down before bopping him on the nose. "Here, something to distract you."

She handed little Ichi his favorite toy — a rubber Chappy that squeaked when it was squeezed — and the effect was almost immediate: his eyes widening in interest and his mouth falling open, he made grabby hands at the toy and began to play her a squeaky tune.

Rukia knew she should have used the distraction to quickly wipe down his back, but she just had to pause and take in the moment, what with her son so excited about the rabbit. He was squeezing the toy as if he _didn't _play with it every evening at every bath time, laughing gleefully as if the sounds were still new to him. There was no mother out there whose heart wouldn't melt at the unhidden _joy_on her own baby's face.

"Yes, yes, very beautiful," she assured little Ichi when he turned to her, obviously seeking approval judging by the expectant look on his face. He beamed up at her before dutifully returning to his tune, and Rukia finally managed to lather and rinse him off while his attention was elsewhere.

Then she turned her attention to herself, dunking the sponge once again before running it up her arm. Though her hair might have been short, she hadn't wanted it sticking to her face from the humidity in the room and had pinned it back. Her clothes were hanging on a hook on the door, along with little Ichi's tiny onesie, and a towel was resting beside their bathtub that would dry them both off.

It was while she was lathering her own shoulder that the bathroom door suddenly swung open, and her husband slouched in with weary eyes.

"Long day?" she asked him, and he grunted in the affirmative. "Why don't you join us, then?"

She curled her legs into herself until her knees touched her chest, giving him plenty of room opposite her if he decided to take her up on the proposal. As if to second her notion, little Ichi finally looked up from his toy, and upon catching sight of his father, his face lit up so brightly it could have been mistaken for the sun. He immediately started reaching out his arms for Ichigo, whose eyes lost at least half their weariness at the sight.

"A bath sounds nice," he admitted, already reaching for the knot of his obi. She assumed he'd left Zangestu in the bedroom because the zanpakutou was nowhere in sight.

He shrugged out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and Rukia tried not to stare as he stepped into the bathtub and took the offered seat. The bubbles and soapy water hid him from the waist down, but his legs were too long for their bathtub and had to be curled, and little Ichi wasted no time latching on to one in a makeshift bear hug. Ichigo and Rukia shared an amused smile.

"Here, I'm done with the sponge," she said, tossing it right into his face. It hit him square on the nose, and though he fumbled, he managed to grab it before it fell into the water.

"What? Not going to scrub me?" he replied playfully, his smile evolving into a smirk.

Rukia scoffed. "Watch what you say in front of our son, Ichigo!"

"He can't understand a thing," he defended himself, but he had already started washing himself, so she knew he was only teasing.

With a roll of her eyes, Rukia leaned back until her head hit the wall, just relaxing in the water now that Ichigo was around to watch for little Ichi's safety. As she stared at the ceiling, she heard the father and son start rapidly splashing the water together in some game that had them laughing gleefully, and she sighed in total bliss.

She'd had many lovely baths in her lifetime, but she knew nothing would ever beat the loveliness of their family bath time.

.

.

.

The zoo had long since become a favorite Kurosaki choice for an outing, even if getting there required quite a bit of travel. Little Ichi was just always _mesmerized _by the animals, plastering his hands and face to the windows and watching them lounge in wide-eyed awe.

It might have been uncomfortably hot today, but even that didn't deter their son from his wonder, so both Rukia and Ichigo were content with putting up with the heat for his sake. It was also especially crowded now that the weekend had arrived, and they were surrounded by families just like their own, who had saved the day for an outing for the children. After spending so much of her life in Kuchiki solitude, Rukia much preferred to be surrounded by these bustling, rowdy people, and she relaxed against her husband as they both kept a cautious eye on their son.

"We're out of water," Ichigo suddenly announced, turning over the water bottle in his hand as a demonstration, and as expected, not a single drop trickled out. Squinting his eyes at the sun and covering his face from the heat wave, he decided, "I'll go get us some more. We're gonna be here for a while still, and I don't want anyone getting heatstroke."

"We'll be here," Rukia assured him, though she was a bit more reluctant about having to let go of her hold on his arm so he could slouch away.

Locking her fingers behind her back, she turned her attention back to little Ichi, who was entranced by the tiger den and had his eyes transfixed on the creatures inside. His legs were a little wobbly since standing up was so new to him, so he was using the thick glass as support to stay on his feet. The sight of his knocking knees had Rukia smiling.

She knelt down beside her baby and asked, "Do you want a better look?"

He craned his head towards her and nodded eagerly, pointing to the tigers with excitement that rivaled her own fascination with rabbits. Garbled words spilled out of his mouth, but she got the basic gist: _yes, please!_

Rukia looked at the dozens of families around them, noticing how almost every single father had hoisted their child onto their shoulders to give them a better view, and she made a mental note to ask Ichigo to do the same when he returned, especially since little Ichi was so tiny and couldn't possibly enjoy the full zoo experience from down below.

"When Papa gets back," she began to tell her son, but then her words stopped right in their tracks.

_Why should I have to wait for Ichigo to come do it? _she realized. _I'm plenty strong enough to do it myself!_

Plastering a warm smile on her face, she held her hands out to her baby and encouraged him, "Come on! Mama will give you a better look!"

A grin split across little Ichi's lips, and he wasted no time in waddling forward and bouncing into her waiting arms. Sharing his gleeful smile, she propped him on her shoulders like the fathers around her, securing his legs on either side of her and clutching his tiny fists. Little Ichi let out a delighted squeal when he realized he could see so much more from this new vantage point, and Rukia swelled with pride. _She _had made her child this happy.

Ichigo returned to find the mother and son locked in a strange, one-way conversation in which little Ichi spewed out intangible, baby talk while Rukia just humored her son and enthusiastically nodded to everything he said. He took a moment just to lovingly soak in the scene before finally catching up to them.

"You guys didn't miss me at all," he accused them with good nature, and the pair stuck their tongues out at him simultaneously.

"Should we go to the next exhibit?" Rukia suggested excitedly. "The rabbits are next!"

As they wandered down the path, Ichigo asked, "You want me to take him?"

Rukia glared at him lightly and huffed, "I'm not bothered! He barely weighs anything, and even if he did, I'm still strong enough to handle it, you know!"

Ichigo playfully flicked her forehead. "I'm not worried about _that. _It'll be a better experience for him on my shoulders. The view probably isn't much better on yours, you know, since you're so tiny and all — _ack!"_

He crumpled to the ground when his wife promptly kicked him in the shin, and the mother-son pair stormed off in a huff, leaving him behind to stumble after them with apologies on his tongue.

.

.

.

Working full-time with a baby to take care of was much tougher than anything Rukia could have anticipated. She and Ichigo both did their fair share of the work, but since he worked as well, there were days when it was particularly hard. More than once, little Ichi ended up tagging along with her to a fukutaichou meeting.

With a baby balanced on one hip and her zanpakutou on the other, Rukia tried her best to stand straight and pay attention to what Ise-fukutaichou was saying.

"The Ninth Division," the stuffy woman reported, her eyes lingering on Hisagi, who already looked both guilty and sheepish, "was a little late with submitting their paperwork this month. I was surprised at you, Hisagi-fukutaichou. You're usually so good with —"

_"Ega!"_

Several pairs of eyes swiveled towards the back of the room, where Rukia had flushed all the way down to her neck. All the extra attention didn't help any. Muttering apologies for the interruption, she held her baby closer and gently shushed him from making more noise. He simply blinked up at her cluelessly, and she instantly worried that nothing had gone through to his head.

Nanao cleared her throat to call the attention back to herself. "As I was saying. The Ninth."

Hisagi rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. Things with the magazine were a little hectic this month, and we were all so focused on getting it out on time that the paperwork was left until last minute."

"Well, I can understand that with your extra duties —"

_"Ega!"_

Nanao was quite displeased with the second interruption, though everyone else seemed pretty amused as they glanced at the fidgeting baby and his flustered mother. She tried holding her son even closer, but he immedaitely started to fuss and pound weakly at her shoulders with his tiny fists.

"What is it, baby?" Rukia finally asked, craning her neck back so they were face-to-face.

Little Ichi placed his palms on both her cheeks, looked her very seriously in the eyes, and blubbered, "Ega."_  
_

Nanao huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and said through gritted teeth, "Kurosaki-san, couldn't your husband have taken your son for the day? Or, at least, for the meeting?"

"He left for a mission this morning," she explained in an apologetic tone, rummaging through her robes. After some fumbling, she finally pulled out a small pacifier she had tucked away in a pouch hanging around her neck. Nanao was now pointedly tapping her foot as a sign of impatience, so she shot the woman another sheepish look. "I'll just give him this. It should keep him quiet through the rest of the meeting, I'm sure."

She pressed it into her son's mouth, who blinked in surprise before latching on to the offered pacifier. Rukia breathed a sigh of relief, until little Ichi sucked on it all but three times before promptly spitting in onto the floor, where it clattered at her feet and rolled away.

It was safe to say that everyone's attention had now been effectively stolen. Much to Nanao's irritation, all the fukutaichou immediately crowded around the mother and child.

"I don't think he wants it," Hisagi pointed out, politely picking up the abandoned pacifier and handing it to Rukia.

"He keeps saying 'ega,'" Rangiku said with a giggle. "What does that mean?"

Rukia sighed heavily. "It doesn't mean anything. He's only ever said nonsense things up until now."

"Have ya tried the basics?" Iba suggested, scratching the back of his head. "Ya know, feedin' the kid, or changin' him?"

"I did all that before I came here!" Rukia defended herself, indignant that someone would think of her as a mother who neglected her child's basic needs, though she knew Iba hadn't meant his words to be taken that way.

"He's probably just bored," Renji guffawed. "If _we're _all praying for a Hollow to come barreling through just to avoid all this paperwork talk, imagine how the kid must be feeling." The other fukutaichou joined in with his laughter in agreement, and his words even got a chuckle out of Rukia.

"Ahem." Nanao suddenly cleared her throat, glaring furiously at the back of Renji's head, and they all froze.

"No offense, of course, Ise-fukutaichou," the red head immediately added, desperately backpedaling his words. They all saw him cringe horribly.

She stared at him for a moment longer, the scowl still twisting her lips, before pinching her nose once again and sighing deeply. Folding her arms over her chest, she coolly made her way over to join the group and grumbled, "Well, if he insists on making a fuss, why don't we just put him to sleep?"

Rangiku gasped in shock, and she immediately flushed. "I don't mean _kill _him!" she hissed, then glared menacingly at the blonde when she stuck her tongue out and chirped, "Kidding!"

Rukia put a finger to her chin, glancing down at her frowning son thoughtfully. "He _did _wake up a little early from his nap this afternoon…" she mused. "Maybe he's fussy because he's tired. I usually don't like putting him down for a nap so late in the day, but fifteen minutes or so might not be _too _bad."

"Then it's settled," Nanao decided, primly adjusting her glasses over her nose. "Please do so, Kurosaki-san. We'll wait for you to resume."

To everyone's surprise, the petite woman instantly turned an alarming shade of red, ducking her head in embarrassment. "I, um, usually _sing _him to sleep…"

The fukutaichou all looked at one another, then looked back at her with sly grins spreading over their faces.

"We don't mind, Rukia," Rangiku declared, heartily patting the woman on the shoulder. "Whatever your son needs. Besides, it's been so long since I've heard a nice lullaby."

The rest of them nodded along in agreement, all taking a seat on the floor and resting their backs against the walls. Rukia wanted to protest — how embarrassing to have such a large audience! — except her son took that opportunity to voice how he felt about being ignored by angrily shrieking, "EGA, _EGA, **EGA!"**__  
_

The needs of her baby definitely came before anything else.

"All right, all right," Rukia grumbled, sitting cross-legged on the floor and cradling him in her arms. She placed Sode no Shirayuki on the floor in front of her, and trying to ignore the group of awaiting coworkers, half of whom had closed their eyes in anticipation, she softly began to sing.

_Golden slumbers kiss your eyes._  
_Smiles await you when you rise._  
_Sleep, pretty baby,_  
_Do not cry._  
_And I will sing a lullaby._

Her voice was sweeter than most might have expected it to be, especially since she tended to talk so rough whenever her brother was out of earshot. It was a talent of hers that Ichigo loved to compliment at any chance he was given, though she never took his words at face-value. That man just _loved _watching her cheeks turn red.

Little Ichi was long since used to falling asleep at the sweet sounds of his mother's voice. As soon as the melody hit his ears, he grinned up at her sleepily and clutched at her uniform with his dainty fists.

Rukia began to smile through the song at the sight, and she gently began to rock him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

It took a few repetitions of the lullaby for her son to finally doze off, and she grinned at the pure innocence on his face when he was so at peace. It was quiet moments like these that made motherhood so special to her.

"Sleep well, baby," she mumbled into his ear, but little Ichi did not stir. Sure that they were in the clear now, Rukia finally turned her attention back to the awaiting fukutaichou, who had all been patient and dead silent during her song. "My apologies, Ise-fukutaichou, for —"

The words died on her tongue, and Rukia was absolutely flabbergasted at the sight of the curled, slumbering bodies unconscious about the room.

Before her, all ten fukutaichou had also fallen asleep to the soft sounds of her lullaby.

.

.

.

At least once a week, Rukia made it a point to meet her brother for lunch. Not only was it the perfect way for them to stay connected after she lad left the mansion following her wedding, but it also ensured that little Ichi would never have to grow up without knowing his Uncle Byakuya.

"I trust your work is going well?" Byakuya asked her today, delicately wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

Rukia bowed her head towards him respectfully. "Yes, Nii-sama."

"And how is Kurosaki treating you?" he asked, a subtly dangerous edge to his tone. Five years of marriage, and he still asked her that question every week. Rukia had never realized just how serious he was about it.

"Well, Nii-sama," she assured him, turning to her son. She had finished eating long ago, and was now feeding little Ichi the last of the milk she had brought with her.

As soon as he had drained the last drops in the bottle, she pressed him against her chest so that his head rested on her shoulder and began to gently pat his back. Byakuya watched her actions with interest.

"I see you do that often," he remarked.

"I'm burping him," she explained. "It's to clear out any air he might have swallowed." She paused, a thoughtful look on her face, before asking, "Would you like to try?"

Her brother froze, but Rukia was suddenly upon him, excited about the prospect of him sharing an experience with her son. She eagerly passed little Ichi to him, ignoring his stiffness; he was _always_ stiff when he handled the baby, even though he had done so plenty of times before.

"You only have to pat his back," she explained, nodding towards him encouragingly when he didn't move. "There's no need for any strength. Light pats should do the trick, Nii-sama."

Byakuya sat statue-still for a moment longer before he awkwardly held little Ichi the same way he had observed his sister do so before. With one arm wrapped around the baby's waist for support, he began to lightly pat his back with the other hand.

Rukia's eyes lit up at the sight. Her brother might not agree, but she'd always thought he was natural with children. Yachiru was a prime example. Even now, though he looked slightly uncomfortable, the way he held her son so close and was so gentle towards his tiny form was proof enough.

Eventually, little Ichi gave a small burp before blathering some nonsensical words, and Rukia beamed.

"I think that should do the trick!" she exclaimed brightly, and laughed as her son let out a wide yawn. "Some warm milk in your belly made you sleepy, huh, baby?"

She reached out for him with a smile, and he wasted no time in letting go of Byakuya and eagerly holding out his arms to be picked up by his mother. She wiped anything he might have spit up with his bib before cradling him in her arms.

Byakuya watched her nurture her son closely, especially noticing the way little Ichi responded to her presence so gleefully.

"Does he require burping after every meal?" he inquired.

"Hm?" Rukia replied distractedly. "Oh. Yes, Nii-sama."

"And you also have to make him a bottle every day?"

"Usually three or four, actually. We're still trying to make the switch to baby food, but he doesn't like it very much."

"These things couldn't have come naturally to you," Byakuya mused.

Rukia blinked a few times before she understood, and she laughed lightly. "No, Nii-sama. I read a lot of books to prepare myself for parenting. Ichigo would get them for me from the library. They taught me all the things I hadn't known before."

"Research is always important," Byakuya agreed approvingly, but his forehead wrinkled in thought once again. "But applying that research couldn't have been easy. You…have never known a mother."

She froze at the words, staring straight at the tablecloth with wide eyes, unable to turn her head to look at him. She had never expected her brother to bring up this conversation with her. She was a little off-guard.

"I…yes," she finally replied. "I was worried about that, too, when we found out about the baby. But Ichigo was there to assure me that everything would be okay." She suddenly grinned, and Byakuya relaxed slightly when she flashed him with it. "I don't have to worry so much, since we're such a good team."

"Hmmm," he hummed thoughtfully. It seemed the fool _was _actually good for something. Then again, he usually was when it _really_ counted.

But he couldn't take _all _the credit.

"You make…an exceptional mother, Rukia," he complimented her quietly — so quietly that Rukia almost thought she had imagined it.

Her chest welled up with a warm, heavy glow. _"Nii-sama…"_

He answered the awe on her face with the barest of smiles, and Rukia wasn't sure she had ever flushed so prettily before.

.

.

.

After a long day of work and motherhood, there was nothing Rukia liked more than curling up in bed with her husband.

"How was work?" she whispered into his ear, lightly running her fingers over his fringe.

"Same old," he answered, his voice just as soft as hers. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her hand brushing through his hair and the goosebumps it sent down his spine. He would never get tired of her touching him in any way.

Suddenly, he felt lips on his, and shot his eyes open to find she'd pressed herself against his side and dug her fingers into his scalp. She broke the kiss moments later, pulling back with a hazy smile, but he was having none of it.

_"Rukia," _he growled, and it was her turn to feel shivers run down her back.

Keeping a cool expression on her face, she mumbled back, "Ichigo."

With a roll of his eyes, he eagerly sought out her lips once again, and Rukia was happy to oblige. She wasn't sure exactly how much time passed as they simply lied in bed, kissing gently, but she found that she didn't particularly care.

Eventually, Ichigo pulled back, his eyes glassy, and muttered, "I think I want another kid."

Rukia raised one eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I really want a daughter."

_That _certainly got more of a reaction out of her. "_You? _You want a _daughter?"_

He smirked at the incredulity written plainly on her face. "Yeah, a daughter. I loved having little sisters, you know, and I would love to see little Ichi as a big brother to one." His smirk slowly died away into a sad smile, and he turned his head away, no longer meeting his eyes. "He'd probably be a better big brother than _I _ever was…"

Rukia frowned deeply at his words. "You don't think you were a good big brother?" He didn't say anything for a long stretch of time, but his silence was all the answer she needed. Taking his chin into one of her hands, she sharply made him look back at her, and then glared when her eyes met his surprised ones. "And why exactly are you having these ridiculous thoughts?"

"Good big brothers don't lie to their sisters, Rukia," he mumbled back. "They don't hide half their life from them, and they don't make up ridiculous stories to hide that life. And they're _there _whenever their sisters need them."

"And when have you ever not been there for your sisters, Ichigo?" she demanded. "Who was the one who saved them from bullies when they were kids? Who was the one who _took a sword through his chest _just to protect them?" He looked like he was about to argue, so she plowed on, "Do you think that if your sisters ever resented you for anything, you'd have this amazing relationship you have with them now? Do you think they'd jump at the chance to baby-sit your son whenever you need them? Or try to have us over for dinner every night?"

"They don't know just _how _much I've kept from them all these years," he argued.

"That wasn't your fault, Ichigo. There are rules in place. Soul Society wouldn't allow you to share anything with your family. How could you help that?"

"I…guess you're right…" he slowly relented, though he didn't look completely convinced.

Rukia grinned at him encouragingly. "Of course I am, idiot. When am I ever not right? If I'm ever wrong about anything, assume the real me has been abducted and you're looking at a double, got it?"

That got her a true laugh from him, and she kissed him in relief.

"You always know just what to say," he breathed around her lips affectionately. His hand suddenly gripped her tiny hip, and he pressed it against his own. "Now, I believe I was saying something about wanting a daughter."

Rukia smiled at him flirtatiously. "No one ever made a baby just by talking about it, fool."

With a growl that could only have been called predatory, Ichigo pounced on her. His fingers ran up and down her legs, drifting closer to the hem of her night gown each time, while his lips eagerly kissed her neck.

_"I-chi-go!" _she whined at his sudden attack, but he only groaned against her skin and pressed himself against her harder.

_Damn,_ when had he worked his way between her legs?

She ran her fingers up the back of his neck, burying them into his orange locks before she grasped them tightly in her grasp and _pulled. _She was rewarded with a sigh against her neck, and it made her curl one leg up to her knee, which gave Ichigo easy access to the back of her thigh. He eagerly ran a hand down from her knee, past the hem of her gown, _finally, _and —

A wail suddenly sounded through the air.

They both froze, rock-still, just letting the sounds of crying wash over them, before Ichigo groaned heavily and _slowly _peeled himself off his wife.

"He woke up," he said to no one in particular, staring at the ceiling with lifeless eyes. When Rukia said nothing, he grudgingly made to get out of bed. "I'll go see."

She abruptly shot out a hand and fisted the back of his shirt, pulling him back before he could get up.

_"I'll _go," she declared when he looked back at her in confusion, and slipped out of bed and began patting down her rumpled gown. She glanced at him from the corners of her eyes and smirked wickedly. "You need to _cool off._"

She laughed at his crestfallen expression all the way to her son's room.

Oh, how she loved her boys.

* * *

**A/N:** She'll be an amazing mom. We all know it.

Special thanks to **lunayuki** for suggesting that Rukia should sing to her baby and sparking the idea for that scene :)


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